I insisted, but she was right. I got through half the omelet and the potatoes but couldn’t even make a pro forma effort with the fruit. My stomach strained uncomfortably; all I felt up to was napping, but I forced myself to talk a little shop with Robin.
“You know anything about the fire at the Prairie Shores? What kind of accelerant they used, whether things looked the same as at the Indiana Arms?”
He shook his head. “The Indiana Arms job was more sophisticated because there were people on the premises. It looks as though they put a fuse in the wires in the night man’s quarters when they’d gotten him off to the track. They had a trailer going down to a stock of paraffin in the basement and a timer so they didn’t have to be anywhere near the place. The fire you were in they didn’t have to be that careful-they just dumped gasoline in the kitchen and at the doors to the basement, set the thing off, and took off.” He looked at me soberly. “You were lucky, V.I.
“That’s what gets the job done. Napoleon wanted lucky generals, not theoretical whizzes.” It gets me edgy when people lecture me on a narrow escape. I
“Yeah, but he was beaten in a big way in the end… Do you have any idea who did this to you? My management is concerned that it came out of your investigation into the Indiana Arms-that you’re sitting on information you haven’t shared with us.”
I tried to keep my temper even. “I don’t know who did it. It’s possible it’s connected to your claim, but the only person who can tell me is lying doggo. If I had that kind of information, I wouldn’t be so unprofessional as to keep it to myself.”
He hesitated, toying with the salt shaker. “I’m just wondering-my boss and I were talking yesterday-we work with a lot of investigators. Maybe we should bring someone else in on the Seligman case.”
I sat stiffly in my booth. “I realize I don’t have the results you want, but I’ve done the financial checks and a pretty good rundown on the organization. If you want someone else to talk to the night watchman or explore what Seligman’s children may have been doing, that’s your call, of course.”
“It’s not your competence, Vic, but-well, this assault on you just has people questioning your judgment.”
I tried to relax. “I went down there because I got an SOS from my aunt. Since she has a strong proclivity for alcoholic histrionics I wanted to see her myself first rather than share that part of my family life with outsiders. If I’d had any serious inkling of danger, I would have handled things differently. But I am really, really fed up with being chewed out by everyone from doctors to the police to you for saving her and escaping from danger with my own life intact.”
By the time I finished I was panting. I leaned back in my chair with my eyes shut, trying to head off the incipient pain in my head.
“Vic, I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re alive. You’ve been doing a marvelous job. But we wonder whether someone else could bring a different perspective. Just the fact that your aunt
“That’s your right,” I repeated stiffly. “But if you bring someone else in, I will not work in a subordinate capacity to him. Or her. I’ll be glad to share my notes and my ideas, but I won’t continue working for Ajax.”
“Well, maybe we don’t have to hire someone else at this point. There is a city Bomb and Arson Squad…” Robin offered tentatively.
“Who wouldn’t even look at the Indiana Arms for you. Don’t put your faith in them just because I’ve gotten some licks-it’d take more than that to get Roland Montgomery to look at the case seriously. He’s even spinning a little story about me setting the fires myself.”
Robin looked startled. “You’re joking!”
When I told him about my meeting yesterday with Montgomery, he made a sour face. “What the hell is with that guy? He hates outsiders horning in on arson inquiries- I know-we’ve clashed before-but this is outrageous even for him.”
His mention of outsider brought the elusive memory of a face at the fire swimming back to my mind, but I couldn’t place it. “You don’t know who called in the alarm, do you? If the fire trucks hadn’t been there, I don’t think my aunt would have made it out.”
Robin shook his head again. “I have pals in the fire department who let me see everything they have on both fires, but the call to 911 was anonymous.”
I ran my fork around in the congealed grease on my plate, trying to come up with questions I should ask about the fire. Did the police have a list of the onlookers, for example, or had anything been left behind at the site that might point to the arsonist?
My heart wasn’t in it, though. The questioning of my professional judgment wounded me as few other criticisms could. At the same time I saw myself in a shameful light, clattering off to the Prairie Shores Hotel like a giant elephant thundering through the veldt. If I’d called the cops-of course, I had called Furey. Still, a full police battalion might have saved both Elena and me a knock on the head. But the truth was, if it happened again tonight, I would do it the same way all over again. I couldn’t expose Elena to the ribald indifference of the police. I have to solve my private problems privately. I don’t even know if it’s a strength or weakness. It just is.
I paid my bill and we set off silently for my apartment, neither of us pretending the conversation hadn’t occurred. Outside my building Robin played with the bandages on my right hand, choosing his words.
“Vic, I think we’ll let the Seligman investigation go on the back burner for a few days. We’ll get someone to talk to the night watchman in more depth, but we won’t ask him to take over the case. Next week, when you’re feeling better, we’ll see what he’s turned up and you can decide how you feel about going ahead with the rest of it.”
That seemed fair to me. It didn’t stop me feeling depressed as I slowly hiked upstairs, but it did ease the tight knot between my shoulder blades.
As I was unlocking my door Mr. Contreras and the dog came bounding upstairs. When they reached the second landing I could hear him scolding her gently-he couldn’t see where he was going; did she have to keep racing back and forth under his feet? Trip him up and then where would she be with me gone all the time. I felt the knot come back to my neck and faced them without a welcoming smile.
Mr. Contreras was hidden behind a giant parcel wrapped in the striped paper florists use. “This came while you was out, doll,” he panted. “I thought I might as well accept it for you so they didn’t bring it by when you was asleep or something.”
“Thanks,” I said with what politeness I could muster- I just wanted to go into my own cave and hibernate. Alone.
“It’s okay, doll, I’m happy to help. What happened to your friend? He leave you high and dry?” He set the parcel down gently and wiped his forehead.
“He knew I wanted to rest,” I said pointedly.
“Sure, cookie, sure. I understand. You want some time by yourself. You need me to do anything for you?”
I was about to utter a firm denial when I thought of the letter I wanted to express to my uncle Peter. I needed to sleep so badly I couldn’t get to the post office before their early Saturday closing.
Mr. Contreras was more than pleased to mail it for me. He was ecstatic that I’d chosen him for the errand. He was so thrilled I wished I’d fought back my fatigue and taken the damned thing myself.
When he bustled off with the letter-“Don’t give me no money now, doll, I’ll settle with you later”-I dragged the flowers inside. It was a magnificent bouquet, reds and golds and purples so exotic I hadn’t seen them before. They were arranged in a handsome wooden bowl lined with plastic. I fished around among the foliage for a card.
“Glad you’re out of the hospital,” ran the round unformed writing of the florist. “Next time try to pick quieter work.”
It was signed “R.M.” I was so tired I didn’t even want to try to decide if it was a good-natured gibe or a warning. I locked all the bolts, turned off both phones, and stumbled into bed.
30
